Strands (A Collection of Tangled Drabbles)
by J. Metropolis
Summary: A series of short stories and drabbles chronicling the highs and the lows of being a formerly lost princess. Chapters will take place before, during, and after the movie. *Chapter 7 summary - Eugene does a little fireside introspection*
1. Little Bird

**Title: **Little Bird

**Rating & Warnings: **G, none

**Word Count: **961

**Summary: **Rapunzel is delighted when she receives a visitor for the first time in the Tower.

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***Little Bird***

Rapunzel spent most of her mornings in the tower doing chores. When she finished, she would spend her afternoons doing leisure activities: reading books, arts and crafts, puzzles. Most days (other than her birthday) tended to run together and it was hard to tell them apart but there had been a few days that stood out.

One of those days had been the day that he (or maybe it was a she?) flew into her life. Rapunzel was all alone in the tower, but she was used to that. Mother had gone on one of her frequent overnight trips. Rapunzel was lying on a small circular rug in the main room of the tower completing a jigsaw puzzle. She was very careful with it and she still had all the pieces, it was just that it was her only puzzle and she had finished it so many times that some of the edges had become dull and would no longer hold a tight fit. Rapunzel had absent mindedly remarked on this a few days before and Mother had grown angry with her. Mother had scolded her and told her this was the reason she could not have nice things.

As Rapunzel was completing the puzzle, she heard a loud thump on the wooden shutters that covered the large window in front of her. It had been a windy day and she had closed the shutters to keep out stray leaves and little bits of debris. Mother would notice if she let any dirt into the tower and so she was mindful of keeping the elements out. The sound had startled her and so she hid under the kitchen table.

After a few minutes of silence, curiosity got the better of Rapunzel (it always did) and she decided to investigate the sound. As she crawled out from under the table she reached for her trusty frying pan and cautiously approached the shutters. She slowly placed her ear next to the slab of wood that covered the large window and listened intently. There was a faint chirping sound coming from the other side. Of course, she could not understand the meaning behind these chirps but there was an urgency to them. She could sense the pain and despair embedded within them.

Forgetting her fear, Rapunzel quickly pulled on the shutters. They opened inward so she was not worried about dislodging whatever was making that chirping sound. Her eyes widened as she saw a small bird lying on its back on the ledge of her window. He had a bright orange face and chest, a small bill and brownish gray feathers. Rapunzel could tell from the manner in which he was laying that the little bird had broken its wing when he flew into the shutters. She immediately wrapped a strand of her long blonde locks around the little bird and began singing to him.

After she had healed him, Rapunzel had expected the little bird to fly away but he seemed to like her. The little bird remained with her in the tower. She was delighted to have company. She talked and sung to it, she even laughed as it zipped past her and flew around in circles inside the tower, good as new. That night, Rapunzel used some fabric scraps to make a soft, small nest on her bed for him. For the first time in her life, Rapunzel slept in the same bed with someone. She was so happy she could hardly sleep. Mother never let Rapunzel crawl into her bed when Rapunzel had a nightmare or during thunderstorms or even when Mother had returned from a particularly long trip and Rapunzel had missed her terribly.

The next evening Mother came home. Rapunzel was excited to show Mother her new friend, her first real friend. Mother was furious with her. Mother told her that all birds were evil, that they carried diseases and pecked people's eyes out in their sleep. Rapunzel was surprised by Mother's reaction. She tried to explain to Mother that this little bird was different from all the others, that he was her friend. Mother would not listen to her. Mother snatched the little bird perched on Rapunzel's extended index finger and took him into her room. Mother locked the door behind her and did not come out the rest of the night. Rapunzel was confused, why would Mother take the little bird into her room if she was afraid the little bird would peck her eyes out? But Rapunzel had learned not to question Mother.

Mother was already gone when Rapunzel awoke the next morning. So was the little bird. Rapunzel was all alone in the tower again. There were no windows in Mother's room and there were an awful lot of stray feathers. Rapunzel tried to console herself by telling herself that Mother had probably taken the little bird back to his nest. Rapunzel was used to consoling herself, but sometimes she was not very convincing. Rapunzel thought that perhaps if another little bird or small animal ever paid her a visit again she should probably not tell Mother.

Years later, when she had access to more than three books, Rapunzel learned that the little bird that had flown into her window had been a robin. Seeing the picture in the book of a robin standing between some bare tree branches made her eyes water but then she looked at Pascal who was safe and sleeping soundly on the table next to the book. Rapunzel startled Pascal as she scooped him up and placed him on her shoulder. She nuzzled him with her cheek and whispered, "Thank you," to her oldest, surviving friend. A perplexed Pascal shrugged his shoulders and fell back to sleep.

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**AN: **This is one of two writing projects I've been meaning to do for a while. I have a collection of Tangled drabbles that are scattered all over the place. Some of them you may have already read from various writing contests I've participated in this year (although I will probably edit them so they won't be the exact story), others are plot bunnies that have been patiently sitting in my hard drive just waiting to see the light of day. They probably won't be in chronological order, but the stories will be in the same universe, meaning they'll be consistent with each other. The other project is a multi-chapter fic which I hope to start early next year.


	2. Love (over)Rider

**Title**: Love (over)Rider

**Rating & Warnings: **T for innuendo

**Word Count: **396

**Summary: **Flynn Rider has it all figured out, or so he thinks.

* * *

***Love (over)Rider***

Flynn Rider purposely discouraged repeat companions. He was a thief, not a lothario. The ladies, as he saw it, were more of an occupational hazard. They came with the territory of being a handsome, dashing, young rogue.

Still it was inevitable that there would be a few hanger-ons. He avoided inexperienced women for this very reason. They tended to misconstrue the situation. They tended to see and feel things that weren't there. Sometimes this happened with experienced women too.

His job was his first line of defense. "Listen, babe (it was always some generic moniker, Flynn didn't bother with given names). It's been swell but I've got a bounty on my head so I gotta run." He'd give them a wink and a smile for good measure but by then, they were all but forgotten. The more persistent ones insisted on coming with him. When that happened, he had to abruptly put things in perspective for them. He had to be brutally honest and explain that to him the whole situation had been more like a even exchange - they both got what they came for and so it was time to part ways. These activities were meant to be mutually gratifying but they weren't meant to be fulfilling, to hold any meaning.

It was not in his nature to be intentionally callous. Sure, his thieving caused people harm in the sense that the unlucky target was relieved of one or quite a few things of value, but he considered that collateral damage. He stole from people who had more than they could account for, more than anyone ever deserved to possess, or so he thought. It may have been a nuance perhaps, but it helped him sleep at night.

Flynn wasn't a cold-hearted person. It was just that over the years he had grown tired and indifferent. He had grown bored. He had grown bored of people, _not_ things. He'd never grow bored of things. Things didn't disappoint him, things didn't have expectations. Things didn't see him a certain way and treat him accordingly. And so, Flynn decided it was time to retire. He'd pull off one more grand heist - the biggest heist of his distinguished and illustrious career. Then he would get his island, surround himself with money and enjoy some well-earned solitude. Yes, Flynn Rider would finally get his dream.

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**AN:** You might be wondering why the title of this piece is so weird. The original title was "Love Rider," until I googled it and it turns out that "Love Rider" is a *cough,cough* product.


	3. Absence

**Title**: Absence

**Rating & Warnings: **G, none

**Word Count: **470

**Summary: ** The King and Queen are childless again.

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***Absence***

The topic was not something the servants or the subjects would discuss in front of their monarchs. They had too much tact, too much grace to mention the lost princess in the presence of her bereaved parents. They spoke publicly of her only on her birthday when the lanterns lit up the sky above the kingdom.

They hadn't forgotten her of course. No one who had lived through that horrid night could forget and those who were too young or born afterwards learned of it from their parents. It had been a blight, a curse that had befallen them all and had caused everyone great sadness. In the weeks that followed her abduction, the streets were deserted by all except the royal guards in search or on patrol. Parents watched their children a little closer, clutched their small hands a little tighter, mindful that the young princess was missing and that a monster was still at large.

In private, the King and Queen spoke of their daughter often. It was a painful exercise, but also a necessary one. It kept her alive, it gave them hope that she would return to them someday. It reminded them to think of her as a growing child whose appearance was gradually changing, and not that gurgling, happy infant who was now gone forever.

The Queen could not stroll past a child without mentally comparing them to her daughter. _She'd be about his height now, I wonder if her front teeth have started to grow in too. She'd be about her age now, I wonder if her hair has also darkened. _And then there were the questions that haunted the Queen. The ones she thought of often, but couldn't bring herself to voice out loud. _When she skins her knees, is someone there to comfort her? Does she call someone "mother?''_

The King could not let a milestone go by without reflecting upon it. There were some he was certain about. _She must have said her first words by now. She's probably taken her first steps or already walking. _And then there were others he could only speculate on. _Has she learned to read or ride horseback? Has she fallen in love? Is she happy? _Those hit him the hardest.

For almost 18 years they had to coexist with her absence. Every year brought imagined achievements and new discoveries they were not there to witness. For almost 18 years, they had to cope with the void that she had left behind. They had to learn to be a childless couple again. For almost 18 years, her room had remained vacant, closed off from living quarters. They had to learn to live without her, to live with her memory but not with her present. It was dark, it was bleak, it felt cold and interminable.

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**AN:** Thanks to everyone who has left a review (yay! you have no idea how happy they make me), faved or followed this story. I promise we'll get to Eugene and Rapunzel and happier times soon. I just wanted to get these three chapters out first. The idea behind them is that each person is missing something from their lives. Rapunzel, although oblivious to her captive state, is still aware that something's missing from her life. Flynn is living an empty life and he knows it. He wants to leave his old life behind and he thinks getting away from people is his ticket to happiness. Finally, the King and Queen. They're the only ones who are fully aware of the true cause of their unhappiness, their missing daughter. I tried to convey that loss in this drabble.


	4. Exertion

**Title: **Exertion

**Rating & Warnings: **G, none

**Word Count: **206

**Summary: **Rapunzel was exhausted but she had to keep going.

* * *

***Exertion***

She was depleted. It took every ounce of strength she had to hoist this heavy load. She had toiled under this burden for as long as she could remember, but she still strained to complete it. Her muscles burned. Her hands were raw from the continuous friction. Her back, her shoulders, her arms all ached as they struggled to finish this tiresome task.

While this endeavor was always hard work, it was especially difficult during the winter months. She did not own a coat or gloves to protect her from the elements. So she was exposed to the incessant wind and the merciless chill as she stood in front of the open window for what seemed like an eternity. Her lips would chap, her hands would crack and her body would shiver.

As much as it physically pained, she would _never_ complain. She knew it was the only way. There was no other alternative, no other means to accomplish this arduous chore.

Her breathing was becoming increasingly labored. But she had no choice, she had to keep going. Just one more tug.

"Hi. Welcome home, Mother."

"Oh! Rapunzel, how you manage to do that every single day without fail, it looks absolutely exhausting, darling! "

* * *

**AN:** This is the last uber depressing one for a while, promise.


	5. Conflict Resolution

**Title: **Conflict Resolution

**Rating & Warnings: **G, none

**Word Count: **388

**Summary: **Flynn Rider tries to extricate himself from a dangerous situation

* * *

***Conflict Resolution***

He was in a situation. His hands were tied, but he still surveyed his surroundings in the vain hope that he would find a way out of his confines, a way out of his predicament.

His search proved fruitless and so he assessed his circumstances. He was a prisoner. He had been interrogated. He had been beaten. He had already twice been on the receiving end of a vicious tongue-lashing and he was eager not to provoke a third swift attack.

He tried several strategies. He tried to sweet talk his way out of his restraints, but he was met with blank stares. He tried to explain why their demands were unreasonable, but it was no use. His captors were indifferent. They were unfeeling and unkind.

He was outnumbered. There were two of them. One was clearly the brains of this operation. The shorter, cold-blooded one was the muscle. It was becoming obvious to Flynn that although "Brains" had been the initial aggressor, "Muscles" was the enforcer, he had already proved he had a sharp tongue and he was not afraid to use it.

There was only one way out of his constraints, they firmly told him. They were prepared to offer him a deal.

When he heard the terms of that deal, he immediately scoffed and rejected the offer. It was too risky, it would be unpleasant. The task they proposed was too onerous.

But he was at a marked disadvantage. They knew what he wanted, what he had already risked his life to possess. And they had callously taken it from him. And so, he was negotiating with his captors from a position of weakness.

In a last ditch effort, a desperate final attempt, he resorted to his considerable powers of persuasion, his raw charisma, his undeniable sex appeal. But, his captors remained impervious. It was no use. They had reached an impasse.

He was uncharacteristically starting to sweat. He could feel himself reaching the breaking point. What choice did he have? He had to make the concession. He sighed loudly as he finally resigned himself to his fate.

"_Fine_! I'll take you to see the lanterns."

"Really?!" Brains squealed with excitement as she abruptly let go of his chair. For the second time that day he broke his fall with his handsome face.

* * *

**AN:** Flynn certainly has a flair for the dramatic. I think if he retold the story of how they met there would definitely be embellishments.


	6. Split Decisions

**Title: **Split Decisions

**Rating & Warnings: **G, none

**Word Count: **329

**Summary: **Flynn Rider made two lifesaving decisions the day he met her.

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***Split Decisions***

Oh, he was in deep.

If he was not careful, he'd lose life.

He'd meticulously planned the heist, but he hadn't planned the escape. He had not considered this part. Perhaps it was because he had not been entirely confident he would succeed. It was a new point of entry. No one had thought of approaching the target from the summit. Perhaps it was because he had been blinded by the enormous potential payoff. The allure had been too much for him to resist, for him to think clearly. He would be exorbitantly rich. He had considered the obvious risks, but he hadn't considered the hidden ones. There were two of them.

Now those risks were coming to fruition. He was outnumbered. They were brutes and they considerably out muscled him. Soon they would realize he had outlived his usefulness. He'd have to double-cross them.

He had only wanted his fair share of the spoils, but it was now all or nothing. They were quickly approaching a dead end.

He'd have to outwit them, he had no choice.

"All right, okay, give me a boost, and I'll pull you up."

###

Oh, he was in deep.

If he was not careful, he'd lose himself.

He'd only agreed to take her to see the lanterns so he could get his satchel back.

Now they were trapped. They were entombed in a cold, dark cavern. Their situation was growing increasingly hopeless with each passing moment. Soon they would be submerged.

He had only wanted his satchel, but it now seemed inconsequential. He had started to shiver and she had started cry. He had gotten her into this mess and she was apologizing to _him_. He had to do something. They were about to die, but more importantly he needed to do something, _anything_ to cheer her up, to ease her suffering.

He'd tell her the truth, he owed her that much.

"Eugene."

"What?"

"My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert."

* * *

**AN1:** For the most part, I'm trying to keep these updates in chronological order. I didn't do it for this one because I wanted to juxtapose these two scenes. Hope it wasn't too confusing.

**AN2: **I'm also working on a modern AU called **Inked**. You can find it in the "M" section (only some chapters are M rated).


	7. Fireside Chat

**Title:** Fireside Chat  
**Rating & Warnings:** K+, none  
**Word Count:** 348  
**Summary: **Eugene does a little introspection by the fireside.

* * *

It was gratitude. That was all. This funny feeling inside him was gratitude towards her for healing his injured hand. He wasn't trying to be a baby about it, but it had really hurt when he gashed his left hand against those rocks in the mineshaft.

Or maybe it was all that water he'd swallowed in their almost drowning, near death experience. He'd had plenty of close calls in his chosen profession, but he'd never felt like this before. So yeah, it must be the water.

Or maybe it was some sort of unknown side effect from the magic in her hair that was making him feel all woozy, like he'd swallowed a caterpillar.

Whatever it was, he knew he wasn't himself. Something in him had changed somewhere between the Snuggly Duckling and their makeshift campsite. Had she always been this pretty? When he first saw her, he'd thought she was cute. But now, now he realized she was beautiful. Maybe it was just the way the light from the campfire danced across her delicate face. And she had freckles, he hadn't noticed that before.

Maybe he was just tired. He'd had a long day. What, with the crown heist, escaping the guards, unintentionally getting captured in her tower, being blackmailed into doing this suicide mission, getting threatened with and whacked multiple times with her frying pan. Eugene caught the corners of his own mouth on their way up. Ugh! Why was he smiling? What was wrong with him? _Maybe it was the frying pan_, he thought as he rubbed the back of his head. Yeah, she had definitely addled his brain.

He looked at her with suspicion and she smiled back at him sweetly. Eugene felt his stomach drop as his heart tried to beat out of his chest. He felt another panic attack coming on. What the hell was wrong with him? He'd never reacted to her like this before.

It was her alright, she'd done something to him. Maybe if he just went to sleep, that "something" would go away and he'd feel himself again in the morning.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry I haven't been updating this fic as often as I did in the beginning. I got sidetracked writing **Inked**.


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